Parting From Carter Vane
by Evgeniya
Summary: Damian severs the bond between Thom and Carter Vane. Warning: discipline/spanking of an adult mortal male.


**PARTING FROM CARTER VANE**

by Evgeniya

Thom folded his arms and leaned back against the counter as he stared ahead. The common, everyday shelf had a not-so-common item placed atop it. The ledge was crafted in mahogany, then painted with a layer of white. The surface was then chipped and sanded to reveal hints of the natural, contrasting wood. This antiqued, salvaged look was only completely finished with the addition of Carter Vane's found head.

"You promised me you would get rid of that thing," Frankie said as he materialized behind Thom. Thom didn't even bother to turn around, but Frankie saw his shoulders tense; an obvious sign that his random visit was not welcomed. If that wasn't enough of an insult, Frankie knew Thom favored the company of a shriveled up head rather than his own. So with an exaggerated sigh, he made a quick scan of the room to find the trunk, but it seemed that the shelf was Carter Vane's permanent home now.

"What? Did you make a shrine for that thing?"

"It's not a shrine," Thom groaned. To prove his point, he tossed a washcloth over the head. He was fully capable of tearing his eyes away. "It's just that I caught it… looking at me."

"All the more reason to get rid of it."

"That?" Thom almost laughed as he jerked his head towards the shriveled up face. "It's a paperweight. It's not going to hurt us."

"_Us_, no. But you definitely. Come on, Thom, I don't want to see you hurt."

"Alright," the reporter agreed with a reluctant sigh that lacked sincerity. "I'll bury it first thing in the morning."

"Nooo," Frankie replied sternly. "You've already made that promise. We're burying it tonight and finally ridding that thing from your life for good."

Thom tensed his jaw for a moment and thought. A pesky ghost playing the part of a guardian angel had never settled well with him. He still couldn't figure out what his motives were in all of this. So he turned around with a scowl.

"Why do you care so much about the head?"

Offended, Frankie let his shoulders drop. It was not the first time his intentions were questioned. "It's not the head I care about! It's you!"

But Thom just shook his head. It was a line he heard far too often from dead men. "I don't believe that. You want the head for yourself."

"Are you kidding me?" Frankie patted his jacket and shook his shirt; the only possessions he was doomed to have. "I'm a ghost! It's no good to me."

"That's precisely why you want it. You want to be alive again."

"Well…" Frankie stalled for a moment. "…that does sound like a good idea…" Then he fidgeted with the button on his cuff. "…but it wouldn't work! Only you can make that wish and I won't allow you to. Or any other wishes for that matter!"

"Oh, really?" Thom smiled. "Like you said – you're a ghost. You can't stop me."

"Well, maybe I can't!" Frankie had the ability to zip in and out of situations, but there were times when he felt just as powerless as he was when he was human. And even though his mortal life was spent being a slave to the vampires, they had offered him protection in return. "But Damian certainly can."

"Damian?" Thom laughed incredulously. "He's an eternal recluse. He'll never leave the Lair."

"He will for you, Thom," Frankie spoke sadly. He knew he himself could offer Thom little, but there was still much Damian could do for him.

"Just leave me alone," Thom finally said with exasperation. Damian had made plenty of promises that he hadn't followed through with.

"Alright," Frankie agreed. "I'll go. But when I'm gone and you're wasting hours upon hours staring at that shriveled thing, I want you to look deep into those sunken eye sockets and try to figure out what good has ever come from cursed, severed body parts."

"Just go already!" Thom shouted as he spun around, but Frankie had already disappeared.

He turned back towards Carter Vane with a sigh and removed the cloth from his face. Then he whispered sarcastically, "Hour one."

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Even deep in thought, Damian was imposingly magnificent as he sat in the deep-seated leather throne. A carved lion head roared from the back and its claws reached down to the armrests. It was a true example of medieval antiques, possibly one of only several objects still older than Damian left in the Lair.

Damian rested his elbows at his knees as he steepled his fingers and leaned over the chessboard. The set did not withstand the rigors of everyday play between Thom and Frankie. The ebony and ivory pieces were scuffed and chipped and the board's once fine finish showed signs of wear.

Frankie hadn't been standing there for even a second before he spoke. "So? How's my strategy?"

Damian groaned and knocked several of the pieces off the table. Even being heavily weighted with embossed leather pads, the chessmen flew and hurtled onto the ground.

It was a move that wasn't hard to interpret. "Why is no one _ever_ happy to see me?"

"Because wherever you go, bad news follows."

Frankie took the empty seat across from Damian and followed the vampire's eyes back to the chess set. "Care to share any observations?"

Damian kept his eyes on the board for a long while before he spoke. "You're both sloppy players."

"Not true," Frankie instantly defended as he tapped one finger on the board. "I have all the time in the world to strategize. I like to think I don't make reckless moves now that I'm dead."

Damian moved in closer, practically surrounding the entire set. He picked up a single piece between his fingertips and examined it. "Thom sacrificed all his pawns, yet he still lost his most valuable piece." He then let his sigh voice his disappointment. "His king."

"Well, you can't blame Thom for that. You're the one who sucked out all his cerebral blood flow."

"Life isn't a game of chess, Francis. There are no stalemates. Someone has to win and someone has to lose."

Exhaling sharply, Frankie rolled his eyes. "You're in a mood."

"Was there something that you wanted, Francis?" he asked in a bored tone, but that tone quickly lightened when he thought of Thom. "How's Thom looking these days?"

"He's… a little… pale."

"What?"

"And has just the slightest dark circles under his eyes."

Damian stood up and closed in on Frankie. He braced a fist on either side of the ghost and towered over him in his seat. "You told me his wounds healed. You said he was regaining his strength."

Frankie shimmered away, then reappeared behind him.

"You can't threaten me anymore," he said as Damian turned around. "I don't work for you any longer, remember?"

"I remember," he growled reluctantly.

"Then you can drop the accusing tone. I wasn't lying about Thom improving. It's just that… things… change. He's not eating as well as he should. Or sleeping as well as he should…"

Damian instantly raised both eyebrows. "He's losing sleep over me?"

"Wow," Frankie gasped. "Just wow. Even after being dumped, you're still vain. No. Not everything is about you. For your information, his dreams are being haunted by a different dead man."

Another growl. "It had better not be you."

"As if I should be so lucky. No. It's a head named Carter Vane."

"You named a head?"

"No, it already has a name. It belonged to a sorcerer that lived on the island a couple hundred years ago."

Damian nodded. "I am familiar with the legend. I thought it was secured in a graveyard somewhere."

"It was surprising unprotected," the ghost laughed nervously. "Just simply waiting there for anyone to come along and dig it up."

Damian huffed. "Digging up severed body parts at midnight in a graveyard with a ghost… That doesn't sound like my Thom."

Frankie concentrated on his sneaker as he spoke. "…someone may have planted the idea in his head."

"You're a bad influence, Francis," Damian groaned. "Always have been."

"Believe it or not, I _was_ trying to help."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions. You've learned that the hard way."

"I never meant for him to take the head. Now, I know I'm not supposed to ruin the surprise, but we found this ring that protects him from magic."

"Thom's immune to magic? How am I supposed to protect him now?"

"Well, the point _was_ to protect him for you. Now, I'm not so sure it can protect Thom from Carter Vane. It may just be a head, but it's capable of killing all the same. I'm not even sure the ring can protect him from vampire bites, let alone decapitated head bites."

"Thom doesn't want to see me, so what exactly is it that you want?"

"Here. I gave Thom this book." Frankie handed Damian a copy of _Unearthing the Dead_. "It has a story about the ring and the head."

Damian randomly flipped the pages through his fingers until he reached the author bio at the back of the book. Harris's black and white eyes stared back at him.

"He's cute," Damian said before casting a warning glance at Frankie.

"Not half as cute as the guys that enter this place, who I'm sure you've been feasting on now that Thom's not here."

Damian tossed the book onto the chessboard, knocking the rest of the pieces onto the floor.

"Okaaaay..." Frankie decided that Damian was not willing to listen any longer. He was lucky enough to even speak with him to begin. "I'll just leave the book here. You read it at your leisure. If you decide that you're just as concerned as I am, then the next step is up to you."

Damian sat back in his throne, rubbing his frustrated eyes with a groan until he heard the sound of Frankie disappearing. Now alone again, he grabbed the book and opened to the contents page.

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The first floor of the house was unusually silent. The normal, everyday noises of human life were absent. No sounds of the coffee pot percolating. No running water. There weren't even footsteps. Damian found himself in the kitchen, almost as if he was drawn to the energy radiating from the head of Carter Vane.

Thom's home was distinctive and elegantly modern compared to the Lair, but the space seemed more empty than usual. Of course, after being practically abandoned for six months and now with the addition of a shrunken head, it seemed like Thom ultimately created a crypt of his own to come home to.

Thom had left the Lair to clear his head. He had hoped that spending time in a normal home would ease the strain on their relationship, but as Damian looked at the head of Carter Vane, he knew that a human life could never recuperate under the watchful gaze of shrunken eye sockets.

"What are you doing here?" came the agitated voice from behind.

"I came to see what all the fuss is about." Damian turned around to face Thom. "I must say, I'm not impressed."

"Then you can go."

Damian turned back to the head. It seemed to be quite active for an inanimate object. "Is that blood on its mouth?"

"I dropped it."

"And you expect me to believe that it bleeds?" Damian leaned in closer. He recognized the fresh scent of human blood all too well.

Damian walked over to Thom, stretching up to his full height. "It took one life already, Thom."

"But that was different. Harris was a descendant of the man who killed him. Even a dead man is entitled to a little revenge."

"Do you hear yourself? You've never once justified the death of another, even though I've only killed for survival. This head's changed you. I thought you left the Lair so you wouldn't be controlled by magic."

"I am in complete control, Damian. You needn't worry about me."

"Carter Vane needs a physical body to do his dirty work. If you're a slave to Carter Vane and you reunite his head with his body, there's no protecting you or anyone else on this island."

Thom groaned his irritation. He had already heard the warnings from Frankie and Harris. It was all too clear where the conversation was heading, so he pushed past Damian and immediately grabbed hold of Carter Vane. The dried up head was securely tucked beneath his arm and his other hand shielded its face so Damian couldn't look at it.

"The head is safe with me," Thom assured. "I have the ring of Erebus."

"That ring is just like my necklace. Its power is heightened with the age of its wearer, but since you're human it won't protect you as well as you think. That ring is a direct link to Carter Vane. It makes him capable of manipulating you."

Thom tightened his grip on the head. He wouldn't let go of it without a fight. "I can't just allow you to destroy the head. It has too much potential."

"Maybe so, but I won't allow you to sacrifice your own life to find out."

Damian grabbed the head with both hands, but Thom instantly pulled back.

Damian sighed. He still has a tight hold on the head, but Thom was resisting. "I don't want to force you to give me the head, but I will if I have to."

"You forgot about the ring," Thom pointed out smugly. "You can't use magic on me."

"I never intended to," Damian hissed. He spun around Thom and wrapped an arm around him from behind. Thom tried to shove him off. He pushed himself backwards, ramming Damian into the counter.

It wasn't much of a fight. Barely even a wrestle. Damian was just trying to get past Thom's defenses and to Carter Vane without hurting him. He had an arm wrapped around Thom's shoulder and across his chest. Thom knew he didn't make an equal opponent and Damian was expecting a quick defeat, so he leaned forward and bit down hard on the arm slung around his shoulder.

Damian stepped back and shook his arm. "Well, that was unexpected."

Thom smirked. "No fun being on the receiving end, is it?"

Grunting, Damian kicked out one of the kitchen chairs. He had a tight hold on Thom's upper arm and he jerked him forward. Not expecting the move, Thom's muscles went limp and Carter Vane's head plummeted to the floor with a soft thud.

"Let go of me!" Thom shouted as he was unceremoniously yanked across the vampire's knees.

Not wasting anymore time, Damian slammed the palm of his hand across Thom's upturned backside. He expected the sputtering of curses, but he quickly silenced him with another painful blow.

"You think a severed head can give you control over anyone on this island," Damian said firmly as he continued the onslaught of painful smacks. "But you don't understand the consequences of intervening with fate."

Thom instinctively grabbed Damian's thigh and tried to pull himself away from the pain. He kicked his legs uselessly and twisted his body; any attempt to free himself from the undignified position. When that didn't work, he continued to yell his frustrations.

"You may not understand the significance of it now, but I won't let you find out." Damian continued to spank Thom's backside with an unwavering determination. He closed his ears to Thom's cries and tightened his grip around his protests.

"I have the ring!" Thom spat through his tightened throat. Since pushing against Damian's thigh didn't free him from the barrage of solid swats, Thom gave up and wrapped his arms around the chair leg for some support.

"Magic works by energy manipulation," Damian hissed with another sharp swat. "That ring has molded itself onto your finger. While that would cause worry for any other human, you see it as a sign of power."

That last thought seemed to fuel Damian's resolve. His hand fell harder, causing Thom to grunt through gritted teeth and kick the floor. Allowing a severed head to drain his energy was equivalent to vampires sucking his blood. The only difference was Damian was never going to take his life or use him as a pawn to further his goals. Damian wanted a life with Thom, while Carter Vane was just going to use him until he had no more life to give. Like most enchanted items on the island, the ring was drawing power from a human soul.

Damian continued to spank Thom, not pausing a single moment to let him recover in between swats. "That ring has tied you to Carter Vane. That's why it's so important to separate you from that head. We won't know the full consequence of being a slave to him until it is too late and I won't allow you to risk that. I won't let you risk your life."

Thom was too focused on the intense burn on his backside that he couldn't really hear what Damian was saying. His struggles were useless and his pleas fell on deaf ears. He felt both exhausted and frustrated.

"You can't force me back!" Thom choked out. "This won't make me return to the Lair! This won't change anything!"

Damian had his hand in the air, ready to fall again, but he instantly paused. He was only here about the head. "I…I never intended it to."

Suddenly, the ring of Erebus fell to the floor with a barely audible ting. The horrible smacking sound was now gone from the room and the only sounds surrounding them were Thom's heaving breathing. He swallowed back the tears that had yet to fall and concentrated on catching his own breath now that he was finally given the chance.

Damian stood up slowly, pulling Thom with him. "I made a promise to protect you, Thom. That won't change, whether or not we're together."

Thom couldn't even look at him. He kept his eyes locked on the floor. The horrible sting in his backside closed his ears to any reasoning. Even through his jeans, Damian managed to scorch the sensitive skin of his backside. He felt humiliated and he was intent to tell Damian just what he thought of him as soon as he found his voice again.

Damian understood his distance, but he still wanted him to know that he had his best interest in mind. He placed a desperate hand on each shoulder and spoke purposely. "Thom, I said I'd give you time to think. When you return to the Lair, I want it to be on your own, but I'm not simply going to stand by while you throw your life away."

"You have your ring and your head," Thom muttered coldly. Finally, he pulled his eyes away from the floor and met Damian with a hard stare. "And I am left defenseless as usual."

Without acknowledging the look of hurt on Damian's face, Thom pushed past the vampire and stormed up the stairs. Too stunned to walk away just yet, Damian tensed his jaw and inspected the offending objects that now scattered the floor.

Meanwhile, Thom threw himself facedown onto his bed. He buried his face in his pillow, muffling his curses and cries. He was shocked at the intense burn he felt along his backside and thighs. Even though the spanking had stopped, it felt as if Damian's hands never left him. It was a horrible reminder of an event that he quickly wanted to forget.

"That. Was. Hot." Frankie chimed in from the corner of the room.

Thom groaned into his pillow and refused to look at the ghost. "Frankie, go away…"

"I just brought some lotion," he replied innocently. "I thought it would help."

Thom muffled another groan of complaint, then responded. "That's not necessary."

"Well, can I rub it in anyway?"

"Get out! I don't even want to look at you!"

"Thom… you don't mean that."

Thom pushed himself away from the pillow and greeted Frankie with eyes still raging with anger. "YOU decided to haunt ME, remember? I didn't invite any of this!"

Frankie flinched at the harsh tone. Thom had every right to be upset. He just needed time to cool down before Frankie offered him any reasoning.

"Alright, Thom," the ghost agreed reluctantly. "If that's what you want." Then he quickly disappeared. He didn't want to cause Thom anymore discomfort than he already felt.

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Damian was back at the Lair, standing silently as he held the head of Carter Vane in his hands. He closely examined every crack, crevice, and wrinkle. The skin had mostly decomposed, but there were pockets in the dried skin where parasites had burrowed and eggs were hatched. Even overlooking its appearance, the smell alone was enough to avoid taking a second glance. Damian couldn't understand how a human could become so enthralled with such a repulsive object. Temptation obviously played a huge factor, but magic must have been involved and Damian wasn't convinced that Carter Vane would create a ring that repelled his own powers.

Damian turned the head over in his hand once more, fully aware of the ghost standing behind him. Since Frankie couldn't actively change history, he wouldn't be able to use any wishes. But that didn't mean the temptation wasn't still there.

"Come for the head?" Damian asked casually.

"No," he spat quickly. "But what _are_ you going to do with it?"

"Someone has to protect it and make sure it doesn't come into the wrong hands. I'm afraid this thing gets the unfortunate pleasure of sitting beside my portrait. Yet another reminder of how horrible and rotten death is."

"Maybe you shouldn't keep two potentially dangerous weapons so close together."

Damian looked around the mausoleum. No one else in the Lair even knew this space existed. "This room is secure. If it's enough to protect my life, it's enough to protect this head."

Damian placed the head on a nearby pedestal and turned to face Frankie. "You sure you don't want it? Seems like the perfect man for you. Can't run away."

"Thanks, but I'm here about the ring."

"The ring?" Damian laughed. "It's of no use to you."

"No, but it _was_ meant to protect Thom. I'm not saying you should give it to him, but it's worth hanging onto. Even with the ring, Thom was mesmerized by the power of Carter Vane. It shows just how easily influenced he is by magic. We don't know what the future will hold. You may need that thing again."

"The ring attached itself to Thom. It may not be so easy to remove the next time."

"I know. I'm just saying. Just in case."

Damian removed the ring from his pocket and carefully examined it. It was no more than pounded metal. It didn't even have a jewel. It looked completely innocent and unimportant.

Frankie watched Damian examined the ring and made an observation. "Ever think you're trying to take control away from Thom because Richard DeVere took control away from you?"

Damian grunted and instantly answered. "No."

"Then maybe you need to show Thom that. It's not exactly easy to read your emotions, you know."

"Richard DeVere didn't take control away from me," he replied angrily. "If anything, he gave me power."

Frankie gave a condescending nod. "Well, I've heard you tell the story differently before."

"What do you care? You're the one who caused this mess. Why should you repair my relationship with Thom?"

"The way I see it, you really have no choice but to get along with me."

Damian groaned. "How do you figure?"

"Well, Thom is human. We can't expect him to live forever. In the end, it'll just be you and me."

The vampire stared off distantly. "What a sickening thought."

"I know! I definitely get the short end of that deal!"

Damian shoved the ring back into his pocket. "If you've said all you wanted, then you may go."

"Like I said, you can't order me around anymore," the ghost reminded simply. "I really can't leave until I know what you're going to do with that ring."

Damian groaned again. "Your precious ring is safe with me." He shoved his fist back into his pocket and retrieved the ring. Then he placed it on the easel of the portrait with a sigh. "I'll just add it to the pile."

Frankie offered Damian a satisfied nod before he vanished into thin air.

Damian watched the empty space where Frankie had been. Once he was sure the ghost was gone, he picked the ring up once more. While he did not recognize the metal it was crafted from, it still looked of very little significance. But he knew fully well that dark magic always disguised itself within the simplest of objects.

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Damian sat on Thom's bed, waiting as he listened to the sound of running water. The home didn't look so dark anymore now that Carter Vane's head was gone. It seemed to return to normal; just the typical house of an everyday human being.

Thom entered the bedroom, his body dripping with water and a towel wrapped around his waist. He instantly stilled when he saw Damian, but instead of yelling, he gestured for the vampire to turn around.

"You're that mad at me?" Damian said with a sigh as he obliged. Thom quickly changed into casual clothing now that the vampire couldn't see him.

"Yep," he answered easily. "And I'm going to be this mad for a very long time."

"Thom, I was just trying to protect you."

"Yeah, well, I think you trashed all of our chances at ever rebuilding trust."

Damian quickly snapped around. "What? Why?"

"You know damn well I don't want you controlling me! When you promised me you'd stop the mind control, I had no idea you would turn to brute force."

"I had to get you to listen!" the vampire insisted. "That head had its control over you!"

"Like you don't?" Thom charged at him, ready to say more, but he suddenly decided to just give up. It wasn't worth his energy. "Let's face it, you will always overpower me. Magically and physically."

"I—"

"Why are you here?" he interrupted. The last person he wanted to see was Damian, so he was eager to move the conversation along.

Damian sighed and smoothed down his jacket. "A show of good faith," he answered as he pulled out the ring of Erebus.

"I don't believe this," Thom groaned angrily. The ring had caused enough trouble. He wasn't intent on seeing it again.

"I promised you I would help Richie," Damian reminded. "He needs this more than you do. I'm surprised you didn't think of this idea yourself, but I'm glad to know I'm not the only selfish one in this relationship."

When Damian held out the ring, Thom opened his hand. The vampire dropped it within Thom's grasp and he accepted it with a tense jaw. He fully suspected that more trouble would follow.

Damian instantly knew what he was thinking. "I won't stop you if you choose to wear it again, but once it's on you can't take it off."

Thom felt the weight of the ring within in hand. He was instantly reminded of Damian's displeasure over it and its connection with Carter Vane's head. "I suppose it wouldn't have made a difference anyways. You'll always be stronger than me and you'll use that to your advantage - just like you have been for the past 6 months."

Damian nodded sadly. "I'm sorry you feel that way."

"You don't give me any other choice."

"I will always love you, Thom," Damian insisted. "Being apart won't change that. I will always look out for you."

Thom shook his head. It was the last thing he wanted to hear that moment. "I rather you didn't."

Damian expected that reaction, so he simply responded with a nod. He slowly left the house, knowing that Thom wanted to be alone with his thoughts.

"I see you accepted the proverbial hatchet," Frankie observed as he came into form in front of Thom. Then he added arrogantly, "You're welcome!"

"Is that what this is?" Thom smiled hesitantly as he inspected the ring. "Well, I guess there's nothing else to do but give it to Richie. I don't need it anymore."

Frankie raised an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted to be with Damian?"

"I…" Thom hesitated. "I do… I just don't… know anymore."

"You wanted to know if Damian was using magic to make you stay. You have your answer. When you wore that ring, your feelings for Damian didn't change. That meant he's not using magic on you. Your feelings are sincere. That's great news!"

"Yes," Thom groaned. "But as usual, a whole other set of problems arises."

"Are you still mad about earlier? Let's face it, you weren't exactly undeserving. You almost twisted my arm there for a minute, if that was even possible."

Thom rolled his eyes, trying to remind himself that he still should be mad at Frankie. Unfortunately, there was no use in shooing away a ghost. They always materialized right back.

"You wanted to know if you had the freedom to leave the Lair if you really wanted," Frankie continued. "Damian has proven to you that you can. He's not going to force you to stay. He wants you to give yourself to him willingly."

"Therein lies the problem," Thom muttered. "I'm not exactly willing to give up control like that."

"You say that, but you were perfectly willing to give control to Carter Vane. Nothing's worth being a slave to a shrunken head. It already killed Harris and if it succeeded in reuniting its head with its body, he'd have no reason to keep you alive. And you couldn't even see that this was happening to you. No one could get through to you. You were lucky that Damian stepped in, no matter how unhappy you are about it."

Thom groaned and rubbed his eyes. He was frustrated that he couldn't completely disagree.

"You should be so lucky to have someone that wants to protect you," Frankie pointed out. "I wasn't as fortunate when I was alive."

Thom tightened his lips and shook his head. At that moment, he didn't feel very fortunate.

"Just promise me you haven't given up on Damian just yet," Frankie asked.

Thom hesitated for a moment as he thought. Then he finally threw his hands up in the air as he reluctantly agreed. "Alright! I'll give it some thought. Damian didn't exactly have a lot of choices and, yeah, I wouldn't want to be a slave to a severed head. Are you happy?"

"I'm getting there," Frankie smiled. "What are you going to do now?"

"I guess I'm going to the hospital. Get this thing to Richie."

"You sure you don't want to keep it for yourself?"

"No," Thom sighed. "Damian's right. Richie needs this more than I do. He came to me in tears. Actually tried to kill himself. He has nothing left. He wasn't even involved in any of this."

Frankie nodded. "Just an empty shell of a person. I guess that what's happens when you're a _slave_."

"Alright," Thom groaned. "I get it. I'm not a slave and I never want to be."

"You always have that blood bond to rely on," Frankie pointed out. "Damian can never hurt you, even if you feel a little embarrassed right now."

Thom cringed. "Let's just not talk about it. Alright, Frankie?"

"Can do." Frankie offered Thom one more brief smile before he stilled and disappeared.

Thom shoved the ring into his pocket and grabbed his car keys from the counter. While the day hadn't turn out how he expected, at least there was some good news. Ultimately, he knew he would find his way back to Damian. He just hadn't figured out how. Either way, he knew he could never return to the life he had before discovering vampires on the island.

But at least he could help Richie get his life back in order.

THE END.


End file.
